There's another one must not be forgotten,
The life of the camp, full of laughter and song;
Kind words and smiles for every one,
Happy may be her life and long,
For Mrs. Blake-Alverson and her song.
The dear Log Cabin on the hill,
With its huge fireplace and cheery fire,
Where met each eve both old and young,
Mother and daughter, son and sire,
To hear the piano's tuneful notes
And raise their voices loud in song;
To "trip the light fantastic toe"
And strive the pleasures to prolong.
Where could you find such beautiful girls,
Such as the poet always sings,
Gentle and kind, courteous and mild,
We pronounce them angels, all but the wings.
We regretfully leave such glorious scenes;
But as all things must come to an end,
We part for the time with reminiscences sweet,
Resolving here next summer to spend.
When at last we all arrive at St. Peter's Gate
In the Sweet bye and bye,
And when he calls the heavenly roll
May he not pass us by.
These lines caused much merriment and were heartily applauded. I wish
to pay tribute here to a most noble woman who, left with three sons,
was happily doing her best. She was a fine cook and housekeeper in her
own home and each summer for three months she came to cook at the inn.
I never ate finer meals. There were Tahoe trout every day that would
fill an epicure's heart with delight, and venison, hot rolls, muffins
and waffles, cake, puddings and creams all splendidly prepared.
Pages:
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254